


Tomorrow is Another Day

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF), PewDiePie (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jack McLoughlin has been in love with Felix Kjellberg for as long as he can remember. And it costs him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of a drabble (the first chapter) I wrote on my blog a few days ago.
> 
> I'm going to be up front and say that this story is so loosely edited that I can't even believe I'm posting it. 
> 
> I know this isn't my best work. You don't have to tell me. I'm very aware of the fact that this story is probably ridiculous at times, but allow me this; this story is undeniably a personification of my feelings. For the last few days I've been stuck in a perpetual cycle of feeling sad and angry and lonely, so I put all of what I was feeling into words. Now, this situation has never happened to me, but it's the way the words came out, and hey, who am I to argue with my heart? 
> 
> That said, I honestly feel like because of that, this is one of the most realistic stories I've ever written, but that's up to you.
> 
> This is purely a work of fiction, and I am in no way comparing these to real events. 
> 
> Thank you, enjoy.

The last thing he is expecting is to see Felix at his door in the middle of the night. 

Jack and Felix have been longtime friends for years, but haven't really talked to each other face to face in a great deal of time. It's been over a year, as a matter of fact, and Jack hadn't even known he was in town.

But there he is, looking utterly miserable with red rimmed eyes, and a trembling body as the chilly night air rolls in through his apartment door. Jack takes a moment to be shocked, before Felix's soft, “Jack...” breaks him out of his thoughts. 

He ushers him inside, sitting him down on the couch as he wraps a blanket around his cold shoulders. Jack grabs some of the lukewarm tea from the kettle he'd made himself earlier and pours it into a mug before it goes into the microwave. Mentally, he tries to recall what Felix likes in his tea—a few sugars, and milk? Jack settles on a spoon and a half of sugar in the mug, stirring it quickly before rushing back in. Felix has settled himself under the blanket, wiping at his eyes, as more seem to fall.

Jack sits down next to him, offering him the mug. Felix takes it gratefully, sipping at it, and when he sighs, some of the tension leaving him, Jack prompts, “Felix?” 

Felix says nothing for a while. He runs his finger up and down the mug a few times, and Jack leans back next to him, staring up at the ceiling. It's been way too long since he's seen his best friend, and he realizes this only because he has no idea of what's going on. If they were closer, he might have a guess, but now...

“Marzia,” Felix whispers, setting his mug on the coffee table, and Jack looks to him. Felix meets his gaze, and his eyes are as blue as ever. When Jack cocks a brow at him, Felix amends, “My girlfriend. She...well, my ex-girlfriend, I should say...she...some things came up and...God, I just---”

He starts crying again. Jack's heart breaks, especially as Felix blubbers out, “I didn't know what to do, so I came—so I came to you, because you're the—the only person I could think of--”

Felix sucks in a sharp breath, and Jack pulls him into a fierce hug. The Swede buries his face into Jack's shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. He tries to soothe him gently, mumbling almost nonsensical comforts, but nothing seems to work. 

A million things are running through his mind. Felix had mentioned ex-girlfriend, so apparently they weren't together anymore. Apparently Felix had really liked her. Apparently, he thought Jack could help him.

Which he can't. Not really. If anything, Jack seems to be making it worse.

“Hey,” Jack tries, petting Felix's hair. It's soft to the touch, just as soft as he remembers, and his heart clenches. 

He swallows any feelings he may have down. 

_C'mon, Jack_ , he thinks. _Think of the cute guy across the hall._

Before he can fully imagine his cute, slightly Asian neighbor, Felix whispers, “Jack?” 

He pulls away, and Felix locks eyes with him again. His blue eyes are even more intense than they had been before, and Jack swallows, unsure of what to say. Felix reaches up and it takes all of Jack's energy not to lean into his touch as Felix's fingers graze his cheek, settling there, mumbling, “I've really missed you, you know?”

“I've missed you too,” Jack replies, hoping he doesn't sound as choked as he feels.

Surprisingly, Felix laughs, though strained. His hand never leaves his face. “You still sound Irish as ever, you mad bastard.”

“I visit home pretty often,” Jack says, finding it in himself to smile. “Seems you lost that heavy Swedish accent, though.”

“I'm still Swedish to my core.”

There's a moment of stillness after that, where Jack hears nothing but the sound of their breathing. He almost feels like he's in a daze, until Felix shifts, and he places one hand on Jack's knee. He doesn't move. Felix's other hand remains on his cheek, and when Jack says nothing, Felix leans in and kisses him.

Feelings burst within him. Jack had managed to suppress all of the feelings he'd ever had for his best friend up until this point, but actually, physically kissing him sent shivers down his spine. Instinctively, he fists his fingers into the front of Felix's shirt, yanking him in closer, and closer, never breaking the kiss. It's messy and hot and so fucking wrong but Jack can't get enough. 

Making out with Felix Kjellberg on his couch at 10:56 PM on a Wednesday night hadn't been Jack's plan at all. 

He knows he's going to regret this in the morning. Jack absolutely knows he's going to regret this in the morning, because he's twenty-five years old and people don't just kiss their best friends. Felix is freshly out of a relationship, and he's vulnerable. Jack should stop him.

But he can't. He can't get enough. Jack wants everything he can get from this. He leans back on the couch and pulls Felix on top of him, groaning in pleasure as Felix readily complies with their newfound positions. 

Tomorrow is another day. And as Jack loses himself in bliss, he thinks tomorrow is a good day to deal with it.


	2. Chapter 2

He wakes to the patter of rain on the roof. 

Jack lays on his stomach, and the moment he rolls onto his side, an ache settles into all of him. He hisses quietly as he flops back onto his stomach, combing his fingers through his hair. Jack buries his face into his pillow, trying to ignore the pain rather than think of why he hurts.

His attention is only brought back to reality when he hears the door open, and he reminds himself that, given the squeak his door makes, he really needs to oil it or something. Jack manages to roll onto his side again, and Felix stands in the doorway, his hair damp, but still wearing yesterday's clothes. His expression is blank when he meets Jack's gaze.

"There's still some of your clothes in that drawer," Jack gestures to his dresser vaguely. "From your last visit. You left some shirts n' shit, and they aren't my size or style, so I just...tossed 'em in there. Take 'em. They're yours."

Felix clears his throat, nodding as he crosses the room. Jack is oddly tempted to go back to sleep, but knows that he can't. The heavy tension in the room prevents him from falling back asleep comfortably anyway. 

Jack pulls himself out of bed, feeling sticky and gross. He makes a beeline for the bathroom, hoping that Felix hadn't used all of the hot water. He steps in and turns on the faucet, before turning on the shower head.

He sits under the hot water for much too long, but eventually cleans himself up. Part of him doesn't ever want to leave the safety of the shower, because at least while he's in here, he doesn't have to worry about anything. But he has to go out and face this, all of this, and he wonders where this will leave their friendship.

Jack turns off the water and steps out, grabbing a clean towel from the rack. He runs it quickly over his hair and then wraps it around his waist, before reentering his bedroom. Felix sits on his bed, in a new pair of clothes, his old ones cast to the side, coincidentally with Jack's from last night. His fingers are laced tightly together, his expression yet again blank, as if he's lost in thought. He glances up when Jack enters, and Jack goes to his dresser, pulling out a fresh set of clothes.

He begins to head back towards the bathroom when Felix says, "You can get dressed in here. Nothing I haven't already seen."

Jack lets out a humorless chuckle at that, shrugging as if to say, _suit yourself_. He tosses his clean clothes next to Felix on the bed, drying himself off the rest of the way before he drops the towel, and pulls his clothes on.

He doesn't miss the way that Felix purposely avoid staring. 

When he's done, Jack sits down next to him. His heart pounds erratically in his throat, and a little part of him feels ill. The tension almost suffocates him, and he closes his eyes. "Felix--" 

"I'm hungry," Felix cuts him off, standing. "Wanna go out for breakfast?" 

"I usually make breakfast here," Jack replies, not bothering to argue with the topic change. 

Felix mumbles, "That's right, you always were good at cooking...but hey! It'll be a treat today! You don't have to worry about a thing, come on, let's go out. I'll pay." 

What Jack doesn't say is that Felix can't keep buying his way out of problems. Though it boils right under his tongue, he manages to swallow it down.

What Jack does say is, "Alright." 

There aren't many decent places nearby that sell breakfast, so they end up going to a little coffee shop right by Jack's building that Jack sometimes went to when he wanted coffee and didn't feel like making it. The rain doesn't help in their ventures, given they're walking, so it's best that he likes the place. The people there are nice too. 

After ordering whatever, the two sip idly at their coffee, before the silence is too much for Jack. He's never been one for silence. He sets his cup down and says deliberately, "Felix. Are we gonna fuckin' talk about last night, or what?" 

For a second, Felix ignores him, just keeps drinking his coffee as if he hadn't heard him. But after a beat, he sighs, defeated. He combs his fingers through his hair, and as Jack gets a better look at him, he almost looks as if he hasn't slept at all. "What do you wanna talk about, Jack?" 

"We--last night--" Jack tries, attempting to spit out the words. He lowers his voice, leaning closer, "We...you know. Last night."

"I know what we did last night," Felix snaps. "I was sad, not drunk. Christ, Jack." 

Jack gives him a sour look, and Felix softens. He takes another swig of his coffee. "Sorry I...I just...what do you want me to say, Jack?" 

"Something?" Jack says. "Anything? 'That was great, Jack' or 'Hey Jack, you know, we probably shouldn't have' or fucking anything would be nice. Just don't ignore it like it didn't happen." 

"I didn't want--" Felix mumbles, but then stops himself. He rests his elbow on the table, covering his eyes. Jack's heart drops into his stomach as he continues, "I didn't...mean for it to happen, Jack." 

The Irishman stares down into his coffee. He doesn't know what he'd been expecting to hear. Of course it hadn't meant anything to Felix--why would it have? He'd always known his best friend was hopelessly and utterly _straight_. It isn't like Felix would just realize out of the blue that he was gay, or even _bisexual_ for Jack of all people. 

"I didn't either," Jack says, almost to himself. Then, "Listen, Fe--I..."

He can't bring himself to finish. God, he feels sick. Jack wishes that the rain outside would wash him away, make him not exist anymore. That would be preferable to how he's feeling now. 

"I don't have any right to ask this of you," Felix says, at last. Jack looks up. "But, do you mind if I stay with you, for a bit? If you don't want me to, I--I understand. But you...I trust you more than anyone else, Jack. Really." 

Jack would be a goddamn idiot to agree to that. He should tell Felix no, that he can't put him up, that he has to leave today and not come back until he's sorted himself out, or until Jack can pretend things are normal again. 

But Jack is stupid as all hell. He never was good at making decisions. 

"Of course," he laughs humorlessly. "What are friends for?" 

\--

The next few days are worse than Jack had anticipated. There's so much tension between them that Jack could drown in it, and to be fair, he wishes that he could. Felix had left the first day to gather a few of his things--turns out he's been pretty close all of this time, how typical--and he returns all too soon. He ends up setting up in Jack's guest room, and Jack decides that the guest room is forever off limits to him until further notice. 

Whatever they are now, they aren't friends. Normally, on any other occasion, Felix and Jack would be laughing their asses off, playing some obscene game and mocking all of its bad qualities and praising the good. But they could hardly be in the same room together, now. Jack finds that he's spending more time locked in his room than he ever has before. He only comes out at designated food hours to cook for himself, and usually that's the only time him and Felix ever hang out. Since Jack works from home, it's easier to pretend he's still really busy whenever Felix comes home from his job, wherever that is. Jack just knows he takes the train to the next city over, or maybe it's several cities, he doesn't know. Him and Felix haven't exactly gotten time to catch up. 

It's day five and Jack's hiding in his room again when Felix knocks on his door, coming inside after Jack affirms he's allowed to. He's at his desk and takes off his headphones as Felix enters, looking apprehensive at being in Jack's bedroom again. 

"What's up?" Jack asks, almost itching to get Felix out of his room as fast as possible. He puts his hands on his knees, gripping them tightly.

His heart almost leaps out of his chest as Felix shuts the door behind him, meeting his gaze with the same fierceness he had the first night. He almost tells Felix to get out, just to leave before anything can go down, before he can say anything, but Jack isn't strong enough.

God, he wishes he was. 

He approaches. Jack rises to meet him, because maybe if he can't tell him to leave, he can push him out. But the moment Jack raises his hands, Felix grabs him by the wrists, pushing his hands down to his sides before he leans in and kisses him.

Jack kisses back, and he hates himself.

He's _so_ goddamn weak. 

\--

For the most part, things are kind of normal after that. 

It's easier to deal with Felix as his best-friend-with-benefits rather than his estranged roommate. They go about their own business but every now and again Felix will walk into the room with that look, and Jack gets weak in the knees, succumbing to the flutters in his stomach, even though he constantly tells himself not to. He wishes his feelings would just be digested already, but he seems to have no such luck. 

And every time they sleep together, it takes all of Jack's strength not to tell him that he loves him. 

His tongue hurts from biting down on it so often. 

A part of him is painfully conscious of the fact that Felix is more than likely using him, and that he's a rebound of some sort, but Jack can't mention it. If he does, Felix will probably stop and Jack...Jack wants to get it while he can.

The thought is sad. He would laugh at himself if it weren't so pitiful. 

One morning, Jack wakes up before Felix, for once. He's glad it's a weekend. They've started sharing the same bed every night because of the frequency of their...ventures. He pulls on his clothes and grabs a hoodie on the way out, deciding that he wants to get some fresh air. He heads out of the apartment complex but before he gets out of the building, he runs into someone.

"Oh, good morning!" his cute, slightly Asian neighbor chirps, much too happy for the early hour. "It's pretty nice out today, don't you think? I was just going out for a walk." 

Jack thinks it's too fucking cold outside to be going for a walk. He says as much. "Isn't it a little cold?"

"Yeah, but it's really refreshing, actually," Asian Neighbor comments, smiling brightly. It's a really nice smile, Jack thinks. "I'm Mark, by the way. Say, um...would you like to come out with me? I feel bad that I haven't gotten the chance to really talk with you yet--we've been neighbors for a while, haven't we?" 

Mark extends his hand, and Jack tentatively takes it. His handshake is surprisingly firm, as Jack supplies, "Jack. I'm...Jack."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," Mark says warmly, and he sounds so sincere. "Shall we go?" 

As it turns out, Mark goes on a walk nearly every morning at the same time, and Jack wonders how he does it. It's a miracle that Jack is even up this early this one time. The chilly air makes Jack's lungs burn, but Mark is right--there is something so refreshing about it. The sun is bright but not quite the same intensity as normal, and the cold is a good sort of slap in the face. 

They walk around the block a few times, before they begin to head back towards the complex. The two of them don't break conversation as they walk up the stairs and back towards their own respective apartments.

"Hey, Jack?" Mark begins, his hand on the door to his apartment. "Do you want to come in for coffee? I started some before I left...should be done by now." 

He smiles, and there's no hidden intent behind it. Jack finds himself nodding before he's even thought it through, and Mark gestures for him to go inside. Jack enters his apartment and it's so warm, a lot like home. Not just warm because of the heat, but because it just feels...safe.

Jack sighs, content.

Mark closes the door and, slipping off his shoes, he makes his way towards the kitchen. Jack slips his own off and follows him, and Mark tells him to have a seat at the kitchen table. He does, and Mark hums softly to himself while he fixes a drink for the two of them. 

"How do you take it?" Mark calls. 

"Black, two sugars." 

A few moments later, Mark returns with two steaming mugs of coffee. He sets one down in front of Jack, grinning as he takes a seat across from him. 

"Your boyfriend," Mark starts, taking a sip of his drink. "He's not gonna mind, is he? That you're hanging out in another guy's apartment?" 

Jack stares, unsure of how to answer him, at first. What is he talking about? Jack doesn't have a boyfriend. So he says as much, "What?"

"Blond hair," Mark elaborates. "He was outside your place the other day, and then I saw you two together a few days ago. Not that I was--spying or anything! Just happened to noticed, is all!"

Jack's heart sinks in his chest. Felix. He's talking about Felix. But Felix and he aren't--they're not--but are they? 

He swallows the lump in his throat. He wishes they were. It would make all of this so much easier. Jack takes a swig of the coffee, grateful for the burn, and he sighs. Mark is still looking at him expectantly, and Jack knows he's gonna have to answer, one way or the other. 

No, Jack thinks. He's not my boyfriend. But he doesn't say that. Instead, he says, "He won't mind. We trust each other. Don't worry."

"Oh, good," Mark replies, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Must be nice to have that sort of trust. You two been together long?" 

Jack gives him a tight smile. "We've known each other for about nine years, ah...been together for about...three..."

"That's really nice," Mark grins. "Man, lots of friendship there. Wasn't it weird?"

Jack wonders if Mark really believes him, or if he's playing along with the act. He doesn't think he's doing a good job of lying, but damn it all, if Mark is going to act dumb, so will he. 

It hurts how the words keep rolling off his tongue, though, as if they're true. "At first, but we worked it out. We're...much happier now." 

"Great," Mark nods. And that's that. 

\--

Jack returns to his apartment about midday, much later than he'd been anticipating. But Mark is so interesting, and it had been hard to pull himself away. 

When he walks back through the door of his apartment, Felix sits on the couch, the lull of the television soft. It's so soft that Jack knows that he's not actually watching it, and when Felix's gaze snaps to him upon entry, Jack also notes that Felix has definitely been waiting for him. 

"You were gone a while," Felix says, attempting nonchalance, but there's an underlying _something_ in his voice.

"Yeah," Jack clears his throat. "I was out walking."

"That something you do?"

"Today it was."

Felix snickers. Jack tries to ignore it. 

"I was at the neighbor's," Jack says, locking the door. "Mark."

"Mark," Felix repeats, nodding. "You guys close?"

Why does it matter? Jack thinks, but doesn't voice it aloud. He shrugs as he makes his way towards his room, rubbing at his eyes. He's fucking tired--maybe that has something to do with waking up earlier than normal and last night's misadventure. 

"Hey, Jack--" Felix tries, but a sort of anger bubbles just beneath Jack's skin, suddenly irritated for an unknown reason. 

He whirls on him, demanding outright, "You know, Fe, you never did tell me why you were here, anyway. Now's a good time, don't you think?" 

Felix immediately withdraws, as if burned, but Jack, for once, doesn't back down. He keeps his gaze heavily with the intent of Felix answering him, one way or the other. 

"My girlfriend and I..." he mumbles, and the words so sour in his mouth. 

Jack softens, unable to be forceful about it. "Sorry, sorry, I--"

"No, no," Felix breathes out. "I...you see my girlfriend and I, we...we got into a bad fight, and...she ended up breaking it off with me. I left the place we shared and all that and...I remembered vaguely that you were close by, so I...I came to you. I know we haven't been...best friends lately, but I couldn't help but think...I didn't lie, Jack. You were the only person I could think of to come to..."

Felix combs his fingers through his hair. "I've been trying to get a hold of her, trying to talk it out with her, but she won't pick up and I--I'm sorry Jack, I just--I _need_ you. Please, please--I need you so _badly_ right now." 

How is Jack supposed to say no to that? His heart aches, and against his better judgment, he pulls his friend into a tight embrace, trying not to sigh in relief as he hugs back. 

"I'll be here," Jack finds himself promising, the words slipping out of his mouth before he can catch them. "I'll be here for you, I promise. I'll be here."

Felix nods into his shoulder, and Jack thinks maybe he hears him say _thank you_.

He sighs. Maybe tomorrow will be better.


	3. Chapter 3

It's about day eight since Felix's arrival--Jack has been counting. Each new day is painstaking and he's pretty sure he's losing his mind. 

Not all of it is bad, though. Sometimes, it's nice to have a friend around the apartment. Jack has always been a painfully lonely bastard, even before he'd come to America. Working at home made it awfully hard to have friends, at times. Now that he and Felix are on speaking terms, it almost feels normal, easier to handle.

Jack knows that this entire situation is fucked up, though. He doesn't miss the way Felix stares longingly at his phone on some nights, tapping at it, and with any luck, Jack's pretty sure he's reading old text messages. It constantly reiterates to him that Felix isn't and more than likely won't ever be in love with him--which, though entirely expected, doesn't hurt any less. 

He's greedy, though. He'll take what he can get. And hey, he hasn't been this happy for a while, even if it's the screwy kind of happiness that only lasts for a second before it flickers away.

But day eight is different than the rest. When Felix comes home that Friday night, he looks a little more excited than normal. Jack can't think of what could've possibly happened at work to make him look so tickled, but before Jack can even ask, Felix explains. 

"Marzia finally called me back," he says, his voice quivering. "She said we can talk. Jack--Jack, she's gonna talk to me. That's good, right? That means we might make up?" 

Jack stares at him for a long, awkward moment, wondering if it's rhetorical or not. But when Felix stares back, very clearly looking for an answer, Jack just shrugs, his chest tightening. 

"Jack," Felix steps a little closer, gripping his shoulder. It takes all of Jack's energy not to jerk away. "I...God, this is so...great. Like, we might be able to work it out. Which means--you know, I won't be taking up your space anymore?" 

"I don't mind you here," Jack blurts out, and then he wants to slap himself. How desperate can he possibly get? His cheeks heat up, but he can't even care as he goes on, "But I...but I'm glad that you and..."

Jack can't even finish. His stomach tightens and it rolls itself into knots. He clenches his fists hard, so hard that the knuckles begin to turn white. He grits his teeth as he smiles, muttering out forcibly, "I'm so glad you two might get back together. That's great. When are you gonna see her?" 

"Tomorrow," Felix breathes, as if he doesn't notice the change in Jack's demeanor at all. He pulls out his phone again, giving a soft smile as he stares at the screen. "I thought it was over but...maybe not. God, Jack, this is so great, you know?" 

"Great," Jack says flatly. He swallows heavily, deciding that he really doesn't want to be around Felix anymore. How much longer is he gonna have to stand here, listening to the love of his life talk about getting back with his ex? "I'm sure you two will work it out just fine. You're a great guy--she'd be crazy not to take you back." 

His heart thumps wildly in his chest. Felix pulls him into a hug and Jack knows he's got to feel his heart pulsating. But he doesn't say anything, too absorbed in something, probably himself, to ask why he's freaking out so much. 

Before Felix can talk any longer, though, Jack says some bullshit lie about how he needs to take care of something before ducking into his room. He locks the door behind him, sinking against it, trying to breathe in and out slowly. 

Jack combs his fingers through his hair, gripping at the locks, before he presses his head to his knees. 

Love hurts. He fucking hates it. 

He hates it even more when he sleeps alone that night.

\--

Day nine is even more horrible because Jack has to not only watch Felix leave the apartment to see his ex-girlfriend, but to pep talk him because he's nervous. 

"What if I screw up again?" Felix whispers, frantic. "I can't mess this up, Jack. She's--she's everything to me." 

_Just stab me in the heart, why don't you?_ Jack thinks bitterly, but instead puts on his best smile, one that he'd picked out just this morning. Ha. "You'll be fine, you got this, man! Look, like I said, she'd be crazy not to take you back. Go on out, talk to her, everything will be fine. And if it isn't, I'll be here for you. Just...like always."

Felix pulls him into a tight hug, and though only a fraction shorter, Jack buries his face into his friend's shoulder. The soft smell of his cologne washes over him, mixed with the smell of something uniquely _Felix_ , and God, his heart feels like it's gonna fall apart. 

It takes all of his strength to pull away, pushing him a bit as he goes. He squeezes his friend's shoulders reassuringly, and then, just for himself, Jack kisses him on the cheek, hoping he can play it off as a friendly gesture. 

When he pulls away completely, Felix smiles at him, and there's something so soft in his gaze, before he turns on his heel and leaves without so much as another word. The door closes, and the last bit of Jack's strength leaves him. 

If someone were to ask him how he ends up at Mark's place, Jack couldn't tell you. It all feels like a blur until he's suddenly very aware of himself sitting in Mark's kitchen again, fingers wrapped around a warm mug of black coffee with two sugars, just the way he likes it. Mark has been talking now for a little while about his life back home in--in Ohio, he thinks he'd mentioned, and about how he'd gotten from there to here. 

His voice soothes him. Jack drinks his coffee and after a beat, Mark wraps up a story about being in high school--those stories are always entertaining--before he shifts his attention solely onto him. His eyes are as warm as the coffee he's drinking, which is pretty damn warm, all things considered. Yet, he doesn't feel pressured and he actually smiles. 

"God, why didn't you shut me up?" Mark laughs. "I talked way too long. Sorry, Jack. Tell me about you." 

"You make it seem like I'm actually interesting," Jack replies. "I don't mind listening. You can keep going."

"Everyone's pretty interesting in their own way," Mark quips. "But seriously, accent like that? You're definitely not from around here. So that's already interesting. Where are you from? Why'd you come here? Tell me all your dirty secrets."

The way he sticks his tongue out at the last bit shows Jack he means it in jest, and Jack finds it surprisingly easy to laugh. He leans back in his chair. "Ireland, that's where I'm from. And I came here to get away from all the damn rain, if you can believe it..."

He doesn't go into a lot of detail but he gets his story across, and Mark listens to him as Jack had for him. There's no impatient tapping, so Mark actually seems genuine in his interest, and it feels so natural to just...open up. 

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Mark says out of the blue, when he finishes recollecting his childhood antics. 

"How did you know I was feeling bad?" 

Mark shrugs. "You had that look to you, like a rain cloud was following you. Something happen with your boyfriend?" 

Jack blanks out for a moment, wondering why Mark is talking about a boyfriend when he ashamedly remembers his lie. He stares down into the now empty mug. Guilt rumbles inside of him as he says, "Something...like that. Just...a little...falling out, I guess."

"Breakup?" 

_More like never together_ , Jack should say. But he shrugs. "I...hope not. But maybe. Things happen."

"Well, I hope you two can work it out," Mark tells him, and damn, he sounds so honest it almost hurts. "You seem good together. Or, well--you seem like you really like him. Be a shame if you two couldn't work through it--oh, oh hey, Jack? Jack, don't cry it's--" 

Jack hadn't even realized he was crying. He touches his cheek, and sure enough, tears are streaming down his cheeks. Mark scoots closer and pats his shoulder, using his other hand to grip Jack's that rests on the table. "Don't cry. I'm sure it'll be fine. You two will work it out--love overcomes everything, doesn't it?"

"I don't know," Jack sputters, shaking his head. "I just don't know." 

\--

Jack wraps himself in a blanket and plays old cartoons on the television for the rest of the night. Some part of him feels like if he can just keep that blanket around him, nothing harmful will ever hurt him again.

But then Felix comes home. 

Jack doesn't speak to him when he comes through the door, which should probably be an indication that Jack is really upset with him. But it isn't, or he just ignores it, because Felix sits down next to him. That ugly, suffocating tension is back and Jack wonders if just beating his head into the coffee table would be better than this. 

Felix makes no effort to talk to him until Jack initiates it, which is new. So, being the very pitiful, very lonely bastard that he is, Jack leaves the safety of his blanket to reach out of it, grabbing the remote to turn the cartoons down. He shifts and turns to him, raising an brow, expecting him to launch into the whole story about how he's back with what's-her-name--Marzia, is it? 

But he doesn't. So Jack painfully asks, "How'd it go?" 

"Okay," Felix answers, sounding very tired. Probably not as tired as he feels, though. "She and I talked for a while and...it's like...we're not back together or anything but we're...gonna work on it. We're going to meet up and try to see if we can...ease back into it. I'm really grateful. It's like you said. It went fine."

Jack finds himself wishing that he'd said it would all go south and terrible. Perhaps he has a super power and he doesn't know it. That would be nice. 

"Told ya," he says, trying to grin. He's pretty sure it comes out all screwed up and awkward, but if it does, Felix doesn't mention it. 

The Swede just smiles back and turns his attention to the television, and Jack wonders if there's more left unsaid. There probably is, and he doesn't want to hear it. He just unravels the blanket fully from around himself, deciding to lay it across his lap instead.

A beat passes. He passes part of the blanket to Felix, against his better judgment. Felix says nothing but perhaps he's grateful for the gesture. The tension in Jack's shoulders begins to ease away, and he turns the volume back up on the cartoons. Rambunctious laughter echoes through the living room as Felix puts an arm around him.

It almost makes Jack scream. Because what is he even getting at? Not ten minutes ago he'd just talked about how he may get back with his girlfriend--and people don't just put their arms around their best friends.

Or maybe they do. Jack is too tired to care. He only leans into the other man, and when Felix says nothing to him, he figures he'll just deal with the pain tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Days ten, eleven, and twelve are relatively normal. 

But day thirteen sucks _ass_. 

To put it plainly, Jack is fucking miserable. He's fucking stupid, too. Jack knows he needs to be really up front with Felix about how he feels, because at least if he officially confesses his feelings, then Felix can turn him down and he can begin the grieving process. Because right now, he doesn't even know where they stand.

He wants to be able to give Felix the benefit of the doubt--maybe he doesn't know Jack is sadly and hopelessly in love with him. Maybe he thinks that him and Jack are in this mutual understanding of satisfying the emotional needs of the other person. But how likely is that? Felix isn't a bad guy, but Jack has an inkling he's not above using people if it means supporting himself. Felix has always been about himself before anyone else. 

Jack can't blame him. But then, can't he? After all, he's the one being used. 

(But can he really blame him? Jack wants it. He wants it so bad that he's letting him. Isn't it his fault, then? Isn't he the one who should get any sort of blame?) 

He's stuck in this endless loop of waiting for Felix to come home, waiting to hear about his developments with Marzia, and waiting to see if anything is going to happen between them that night. Sometimes they just touch, like the night on the couch, sometimes they kiss, sometimes they sleep together--but sometimes they don't do much of anything and Jack can't honestly tell which he hates more. 

(Or is it which he loves more?)

Day thirteen since Felix's arrival bleeds into night thirteen, and it's that painful cycle again--waiting to hear the door open, waiting to see what it would bring. His heart pounds, thinking about it. 

Eventually, the door does click, and it squeaks just a fraction. Jack should really put something on it to make it stop. His eyes snap up to Felix as he comes in, closing the door behind him, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary. 

He passes Jack altogether and makes a beeline for his room, leaving Jack totally confused. 

Before he could even think to quell it, a sense of worry rises--the best friend in him automatically wants to know what had happened. He can't talk himself out of it, so he rises from his seat and scurries down the hall, towards the guest room that he had banned himself from a few days ago. 

A knock at the closed door. Then another. "Felix?" 

No answer. Dread coils in his stomach as he knocks again, louder this time, more forceful. "Felix. Tell me you're okay or I'm coming in." 

He hopes Felix will answer him. He's not sure what will happen if he has to go in. 

For lack of better word, Jack just really doesn't trust himself. 

But lo and behold, Felix doesn't answer. So Jack sucks in a deep breath, then throws the door open. 

Felix lays with his back against the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling, almost as if in a daze. Jack knocks on the door loudly, trying to rattle his attention, but it doesn't seem to work. He tiptoes over and sits on the edge of the bed, waving his hand in front of him.

"Felix?" he begins, and finally, Felix's eyes shift to him.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Jack," he says softly. "I really don't know what we're even doing." 

Jack's heart skips a beat. Could Felix be talking about the two of them? But his hopes are drenched when Felix goes on, "We're not really getting anywhere. Marzia and I. Like, it's all awkward and uncertain and I can tell that she is just as uneasy about all of this as I am. But I can't just give up, you know?" 

He sighs. Jack swallows. "I guess so. I mean, she agreed to meet you. And continues to do so. So I guess she wants it...just as much...as you do? Fe, are you sure that you really...want her?" 

His heart pounds in his hears. God, he can't believe he just asked that. Of course Felix wants her back, he's been crying and moaning about her all this time--

"I don't know," Felix chokes up a little. "I want her but I also..." 

He sits up, and Jack scoots over a little to give him room, but Felix's hand comes down on his, holding him there. He freezes, and he avoids Felix's gaze purposefully. 

"Jack," Felix mumbles, as Jack stares down at their hands. _So warm_ , he thinks. _Felix's hands are so warm right now_. "I don't know what I want. And it's scary as shit."

Jack finally looks up. Blue meets blue. Then Felix shifts, and he comes closer and Jack can't, he can't do this again--

"I have to go," Jack stammers, yanking away. "I-I can't, I can't kiss you, Jesus Christ--" 

He jumps to his feet and practically runs back down the hall, into the living room. He slips on his shoes and throws the front door open, slamming it shut behind him. Jack leans against it, heart hammering in his chest, and he covers his mouth, stifling whatever noise might come out. 

Jack's eyes find the door across the hall. Before he can tell himself not to, he walks towards it, knocking on it once, then twice, then three times. He paces in front of it, then wishes he hadn't, then thinks maybe he should knock again, when Mark opens the door. 

Jack freezes, and Mark doesn't say anything, as if surprised to see a tired, frazzled Irishman at his door. He probably is. Jack has no idea what to say, so he doesn't say anything, and Mark says, "Uh, hi? Something wrong, Jack?"

"I--" Jack can't force the words out. He runs his fingers through his hair, shaking as he just lets out an unintelligible whine of some sort. Then, after that, he manages to compose out a tentative, "I'm just...I'm sorry, I'll--"

Mark must notice something, or see something, or maybe Jack just looks like more of a mess than he thought he did, because he clears his throat, offering him a reassuring smile. "No, hey--uh, no trouble. Say, do you--want to come inside? Play some video games maybe? That's, all I'm really up to. You're not bothering me. You ever played Bloodborne, by chance? There's this part I may be a little stuck at, maybe you can help?" 

Jack stares. Mark's smile is unwavering as he gestures for him to come inside. Something bubbles just beneath his skin, and then he's laughing, as Mark pulls him inside, closing the door.

"What's so funny?" Mark grins, and Jack just shakes his head.

"I've beaten Bloodborne three times," he says, even though that's not what's funny at all. He doesn't actually know what's funny. "I think I can give you a few pointers." 

\--

He doesn't spend the night, but damn, he doesn't want to go home. 

Mark, oddly enough, doesn't press for information. He plays the game while Jack gives him pointers, balancing on the arm of the office chair. Mark rolls his eyes a lot and claims Jack's strategy won't work, but then it does, and Jack laughs at him.

Or, perhaps it's with him, considering Mark seems to always be laughing. 

Being in Mark's company feels so nice. It's like a warm breeze, where it isn't too strong but it isn't weak--it's just there, so blissfully and utterly there that it makes him want to sing. Not that he'll do that, because he's really, really bad at singing, but the sentiment is there. 

Forever seems to pass, but it's cut so short when Mark sighs. "I should be getting to bed. Lots to do tomorrow, you know what I mean?" 

"Yeah," Jack replies, and a familiar feeling of nervousness pools in his stomach at the thought of going home. But he absolutely won't overstay his welcome. He'll just go home and lock his door, and not come out until Felix leaves tomorow morning. "Thank you for...you know." 

"Anytime," Mark says, and he sounds like he means it. The statement is punctuated with a smile, thus reaffirming that it must be really okay. Then, a beat pauses, and Mark follows up, "You can...stay the night. If you want. If you don't want to go home." 

Jack closes his eyes. He can't. Mark has been much too good to him, especially considering Jack's been lying to him. He hasn't even explained why he's here, and he can't take advantage of Mark's kindness. Not now. So he shakes his head. 

"No, thanks," he tells him, letting out a long sigh. "I appreciate it but I gotta...gotta get home myself." 

Mark nods. He walks him to the door. Jack kind of wants to hug him, as a further thank you, but he doesn't know how Mark is with physical affection and he doesn't want to overstep any boundaries. 

"You're welcome," Mark says, before Jack's even opened his mouth to thank him again. "Take care, Jack. I'll be seeing you? After all, if you're not around, how will I ever beat Bloodborne?" 

Jack grins. "Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, Jack." 

Mark closes the door, and Jack lets out another soft sigh, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered just now, just slightly. He carefully goes back across the hall to his apartment, slipping back inside. He kicks his shoes off and creeps towards his room.

Jack glances at Felix's room, but the door is shut. He wonders if Felix is awake.

Should he go over, and apologize? For storming out for seemingly no reason? Should he just indicate that he's back, safe and sound? Would Felix even care? 

Before he can convince himself he needs to go and talk to his best friend, Jack goes to his room. He closes the door, and then, convincing himself he needs to, he locks it. 

Jack crawls into bed, deciding that he'll deal with it tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks. It's day fourteen and it's too early in the morning and Jack feels sick to his stomach. 

He's tired. God, he's more tired than he has been this entire month. Jack rolls onto his side and it's a quarter to nine, and he decides that he probably isn't going to get anymore sleep, given the way he feels. He pulls himself from the warmth of his sheets and slumps into the bathroom, turning on the water. Jack hisses quietly when it's too cold, and when it gets too warm he just sits underneath it for probably a little too long. 

But eventually he drags himself from that small comfort, too, and returns to his room where he dries off. Jack pulls on an old pair of jeans along with an old grey longsleeve, and as he pulls on an old red hoodie, Jack realizes he has way too many clothes that can be classified as old.

Perhaps he should buy himself something new. 

Either way, Jack opens the door to his room, balancing on the door frame as he tugs his socks on, too. As he patters down the hallway, he stops short of the living room, the soft lull of another voice startling him. 

"...Yeah, I...no, that's not--listen, I get that this is a lot, and that all of this is a lot, but I really...I really meant it when I said I want it to work. No, I don't have any reservations, about anything. I know it's you. I--okay. Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then. I...nothing. Nothing. Goodbye." 

Jack peers around the corner and Felix pockets his phone, rubbing his hands over his face, an evident tiredness in his posture. He paces in front of the door, raking his fingers through his hair, before he sits on the coffee table. He stares down at the floor and Jack wonders if he should go over and comfort him. 

But he doesn't. Jack sucks in a deep breath, not bothering to make any sort of indication that he sees Felix as he grabs his shoes on the way out. He feels Felix's heavy gaze on him as he kneels down, typing the laces before he pulls open the door, closing it softly behind him. 

He breathes out. It's ridiculous how hard it had been to do that. Jack gives himself a moment to congratulate himself, and perhaps maybe he's finally doing something right in his life. He begins towards the stairs when a voice calls out behind him. 

"Jack!" 

Jack turns and his heart leaps, just a fraction. A soft smile blooms across his face. 

"You're looking quite a bit better than last night," Mark says, offering him a smile in return. "Going for a walk?" 

"Could use some fresh air, more like," Jack replies, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket. "Care to join me?"

Mark puts a hand over his heart, clearly honored by the request. "I'd love nothing more."

He walks down the stairs and out of the building with his neighbor, their conversation picking up quickly. 

Spending time with Mark is probably more fun than it should be. Every time he does, though, he feels--happy? Is that it? He smiles a lot more and it feels so much less tense than when he's with Felix, but the happiness is always mixed with an underlying...something.

Regret? For what, though? Lying to Mark when he seems like one of the kindest and most genuine people in the world? Sometimes he thinks it's guilt--because even if Felix and he aren't anything at all, he feels like he's betraying him somehow. 

"Say, Mark," Jack begins, before he can stop himself. "You any good at giving advice?" 

Mark looks thoughtful for a moment. "Sometimes I think I am. That really depends on the person I'm giving advice to, I think. Why?" 

"I..." Jack rubs the back of his neck. Is it really any right of him to involve Mark into this situation at all? He's too good for that. He shakes his head. "No reason. I was just...thinking about a situation my friend's in, that's all." 

"Oh," Mark hums. "What's wrong with your friend?"

They've made quite the walk around the block, and they're approaching the apartment complex once again. Jack figures if he's gonna tell him, he might as well do it now. But he can't think of how to word it. 

"He-- _they're_ , they're in a bit of a...predicament. So...like, they're in this situation where h-- _they're_ in love with this guy, right? And...that guy isn't in love with him-- _them_."

Jack wants to smack himself. But Mark doesn't call him out on his constant mistake on pronouns, and instead whistles softly. "Ah, unrequited love. That's sad." 

"Y-yeah," Jack replies. "But that's not...all. So their crush kind of...broke up with their partner. Which they didn't celebrate or anything! Because their friend was really upset...and because their friend was upset he sort of..."

He licks his lips. Jack fights the urge to vomit, because even though he hasn't eaten anything this morning, he can feel something trying to crawl up his throat. He's surprised when Mark guesses, "You--you and your friend, they slept together, didn't they? Rebound?" 

Jack nods. He twiddles his thumbs together inside of his hoodie pocket. They're already climbing up the stairs, back to their respective apartments. "I'm really...I'm really worried about them. Because it keeps happening--over and over. Even though...even though they know that he won't...ever really love them, even if sometimes it may seem like he does. And I want him-- _them_ to be okay. You know? So I don't...know what to tell them..." 

Mark is quiet for a while, as if mulling over his story. Jack feels that familiar seeded guilt--he's just lied to him again, hasn't he? They begin down the hall to their apartment, and he thinks maybe he should tell Mark not to worry about helping, that he'll advise his "friend" the best he can. He reaches his door and he puts a hand on the knob, turning back to Mark to say as much. 

But Mark's gaze silences him almost immediately. He stares at him in a way that makes him squirm, as if he _knows_ , and Jack can't help but feel cornered. Brown meets blue. Then Mark says, "Your friend deserves better than that. If you want my advice, tell your friend to get out of it. They deserve someone who will love them fully, and not when it's convenient."

Jack's eyes begin to sting, so he looks away. Without facing him again, he whispers, "I'll tell them," before hurrying inside. He shuts the door behind him and then turns, resting his head against it. 

Deserves better, huh? Maybe he does.

But maybe he doesn't, either. 

\--

For some silly reason, Jack had begun to believe that maybe he was strong enough to tell Felix no, given that he had been fully able to walk by him this morning, and stop him the night before.

He is painfully, woefully wrong. 

Jack's cleaning the dishes that night and Felix decides to help, which is nice because it's less work for Jack to do, and he's always about that. They don't talk a lot but it's oddly peaceful between them. It almost feels normal. 

Until Felix starts talking. 

"Jack," he starts. "You know you're my best friend, right?" 

"You're mine too," Jack assures him, letting the hot water run over his fingers. It stings a little, but the redness of his skin doesn't alarm him. "My best friend, I mean."

"I'm glad," Felix murmurs. He puts away the plate into the cabinet, pausing briefly before he turns back. "You know I'd...I'd do almost anything for you, right?" 

A small prick of dread begins to fill him. Jack keeps his attention focused on cleaning. "Yeah, I...I think so. It's the same for me." 

"And you know I wouldn't ever...hurt you intentionally." 

Jack drops the plate he'd been trying to scrub. "Felix, where is this going?" 

It comes out harsher than he'd intended, so he amends, "I'm sorry. I...yeah. Of course you wouldn't. I've always known that."

 _If I've always known_ , Jack can't help but think. _Why do I feel like I'm lying?_

He doesn't address his own question out loud. Finally, he raises his eyes to look at his friend, who smiles at him gently. Jack keeps the straightest face he can manage, but curses how his heart picks up, just a fraction. Still in love. Still stupidly in love. 

"You've been really good to me these two weeks," Felix says. "Like, beyond anything I've ever expected. And I'm really grateful for that. It's been...a really stressful time for me."

"I can imagine," Jack replies, trying to keep his voice even. Where is this going? 

"And I've been thinking about a lot of things. Like, a lot," he laughs at this. Why is he laughing? "And I really...really want to try something, if you'll...let me." 

That feeling is back. Jack turns off the water and dries his hands on his pants, hoping that his apprehension doesn't show on his face. Felix sets down the rag and Jack leans back against the counter, waiting for Felix to continue. But instead of saying anything, his friend puts a hand on either side of him, gripping the counter, and they are suddenly much too close and Jack doesn't know what to say. 

"Felix," Jack whispers, closing his eyes. "Listen, Felix--"

He tries to stop him, he really does. But Felix cuts him off, "Jack, I--I know that...I haven't been...fair to you. Nothing about this situation is fair but I...I really do like you, Jack. If it was going to be anyone it'd...it'd be you." 

Some sort of hope fills him. Jack meets his eyes and he wonders what will happen next. He should know, though. He's already anticipating it when Felix leans in closer, mumbling as he does, "I wanna try to see if...if it's there, okay? Is that okay, Jack?" 

"Okay," Jack replies, and he hates that he does. He hates that he can't push Felix away, can't tell him to fuck off until he sorts his shit out, and that Jack doesn't to be involved in any of this. But he does, in a way. 

Which is why he lets Felix bridge the gap between them, kissing him gently.

It's a lot different than the last few kisses they've shared. It's more...romantic, in a way. It's soft and sweet, like the two of them have been doing this for years, like this is utterly, blissfully normal. 

Jack melts. He reaches up and curls his fingers into the front of Felix's shirt, to ground himself, to remind himself that this is happening, that this intimacy is real, even if only for a second.

He is much too in love for this. 

His fingers shake when Felix pulls away, as he uncurls them from his shirt. Felix is still close, painfully close, the warmth of him still radiating in a way that he can feel. Jack's throat tightens and it's dry, so dry, as he mumbles, "I'm in love with you." 

Hearing the words himself surprise him, though he's known them all along. Every day he knows them, feels them reverberating in every beat of his heart, in every single cell in his body. Jack's always known, but he's never dared to breathe them aloud, to himself. But here he is, and here they are, out in the open, for the taking. 

Felix closes his eyes. In a surprising act of intimacy, he presses their foreheads together. His fingers shift from the counter to Jack's waist, resting there, not moving any higher or lower. His heart skips. He swallows.

"I know," Felix says, and that's that. 

He doesn't say it back. 

\--

It's 3 AM on day fifteen when Jack, half awake, drags himself to Felix's room, knocking on the door as he fights through the weariness overtaking him. 

"We need to talk about us," he calls. His body trembles as he leans against the door, using it to hold himself up. He's so tired. He doesn't think he's had one good night's rest since Felix showed up. "Goddammit, Felix. Open the fucking door!"

Maybe he isn't awake. It's a possibility, given the hour. But after a beat he's proved wrong, and the door opens just a fraction. Felix rubs his eyes, yet Jack can tell he hasn't been sleeping, or if he had been, it hadn't been restful. 

"What do you want from me?" Jack demands, gripping the door frame tight. "None of this is fair, Felix. You said so yourself. We keep kissing and fucking like there's no tomorrow and there is. There is every time. I can't keep putting it off 'til tomorrow, Felix. It's killing me."

He runs his fingers through his hair. Felix is quiet. Jack says, "I'm in love with you. I always fuckin' have been. And you come in here, asking me--asking me to do all of these things for you, and I'm fuckin' stupid 'cause I did 'em, and then I have to sit here and watch you try to get back with your goddamn girlfriend. And you know. You know what you're doing to me and I'm letting you and I'm not--I'm not going to anymore!" 

Jack feels like he's drowning. He feels too full, like there's not enough room in him for these thoughts and these words. He waits, then. He waits for Felix to speak. But he doesn't.

He doesn't for a long time. Until, "It's so bad, Jack. Because I do. I do--feel something for you. But Marzia she's...she's my everything." 

Jack stares. Felix covers his face. "I know I've been shit to you. And I know you want answers, and I know you want me to choose. But I can't, Jack. I can't. I'm so fucking selfish because I've pretty much got her back, but then there's you..." 

He reaches up and touches Jack's cheek, and Jack stupidly lets him. He leans into the touch, and Felix draws closer, and Jack closes his eyes. "I can't...I don't want to give you up, either. It's so complicated, Jack. It's so hard to work through this. I never had all of these feelings before but then--then it just--" 

He cuts himself off. "Don't make me...don't make me give you up, Jack. It's--it's working, isn't it? I know it isn't...conventional but...it's nice, isn't it?"

Selfish is the first word that springs to Jack's mind. Maybe Felix can't give him up, but goddamn it, Jack can't live like this. He can't live in this weird relationship knowing he's never going to have him fully, and maybe that makes him the selfish one but shouldn't he be, for once? 

It takes all the strength within him to pull away, biting down on his lower lip. "I--I can't--I have to--I'm sorry, Felix, I--" 

He leaves the apartment, slamming the door behind him. 

\--

Jack sits on the stairs to his apartment, in the cold, shivering but refusing to go back inside until he sorts himself out. His feet are freezing and it's weird to be on the stairs at close to four in the morning but he's nothing if not stubborn.

What he doesn't expect to happen at four in the morning is Mark, climbing up the stairs as if returning from a long trip. He looks tired but the moment his gaze falls on Jack, he seems more alert than ever, stopping in front of him.

"Jack?" he asks. "Jack, what are you doing out here? It's freezing and--very, very late." 

A million lies form in his head, and on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't know why his first reaction is to lie to Mark whenever he sees him. Maybe he just doesn't want him to know. But for all the lies, the first thing that slips out of him is the truth, murmuring softly, so softly he hardly hears himself, "It's me. It's not my friend. It's me."

It probably doesn't make sense. Mark probably hadn't heard him. But maybe he does, because his gaze softens, and he offers a hand. 

"Come on," he soothes, as Jack takes his hand. They're surprisingly warm for the December chill. "I'll make some tea. Then you can tell me everything."

He says everything, but Jack feels like everything perhaps entails as much as he's willing to share. But he's grateful, so grateful, as Mark pulls him towards his apartment. 

It takes half an hour in front of the heater and two mugs of tea for Jack to start talking. Mark's patience is that of a saint, Jack thinks, because despite the hour he never once presses for Jack to hurry it along. 

"It's me," Jack repeats, after so much time has passed. "It's not my friend. It's me. I...I'm the one in love with my best friend. He isn't my boyfriend, but I wish..." 

Mark nods. If he's any bit miffed by being lied to, he doesn't mention it, or show it. "And you two...?" 

The implication weighs heavy on him, and Jack feels embarrassed thinking about it. He nods. "Yeah. We're...I don't fuckin' know what we are. I'm sorry I lied to you. Wasn't right of me."

"We all have secrets," Mark hums. "I don't mind that you want to have some for yourself. After all, I'm a bit of a stranger to you."

"Are you?" Jack laughs, shaking his head. "Seems like I'm over here all the time."

"Not that I mind," Mark reminds him, offering a smile in return. 

Jack flushes, but smiles back. He clears his throat and goes on, "But tonight he...I finally asked him what he wanted from me, 'cause I can't...I can't hardly sleep, knowing all of this is going on. Then he tells me that he's been workin' shit out with his girlfriend--"

"Hang on," Mark interrupts. "You're telling me that your best friend has been...engaging in stuff with you while working on his relationship with his ex? You're joking, right?"

Jack gives a half-hearted shrug. Mark reaches across the table, giving his wrist a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"It's my fault for never telling him no," Jack reminds him. "I just...wanted it so badly to be real, you know? I'm pathetic, I know." 

Mark says nothing, his fingers just growing a little tighter on his wrist. Jack sighs. "So he's been working it out with his girlfriend, but he's sort of confused, I guess? He tells me that he's confused as fuck about what he really wants, 'cause he loves her and all but then there's me--and he basically straight up asks me to just pretend like it's not hurting the fuck out of me until he gets this sorted out." 

"Fuck that," Mark whispers, then his eyes widen, as if he's surprised he'd actually said it out loud. Jack is, too. But Mark doesn't apologize, only continues, "I mean...no, I meant that. Jack you--you deserve so much better than that. What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him anything," Jack admits. "I just...left. Sat on the stairs, thinking about what I should do. 'Cause on the one hand I mean--that's fucking stupid, right? To expect me to be on booty call whenever he wants it?"

Mark nods vigorously, and Jack's shoulders slump. "But then there's this feeling where...I know it's bad for me, but I don't want to give it up. Like I'm addicted to him. I'd managed to choke it all down for nine years, you know? I thought I was finally getting over him, you know? Looking at...other people. But then he comes tromping back into my life, and fucks me over, more times that I'd like to admit, and just...the addiction is all out of control."

Silence passes over them. Jack mumbles, "I just want to be happy. God, I'm lonely, you know? I mean, Felix is practically my only friend. And I'm scared that if I--I tell him that we gotta stop, he'll go away, because he's not--he's not a bad guy. He's just confused as fuck and I don't blame him. But he'd stop all of this if I asked him to, I know he would, but I'm scared that would entail distance and I don't want to be alone." 

He buries his face in his hands. "I'm sorry to dump all of this on you. You don't even know me. Sorry, Mark. I just..."

"I meant what I said," Mark soothes. "You don't deserve that, Jack. I know that losing him seems really bad, but if he's going to use you like this, it doesn't matter how good his intentions are. He's not worth it. You're worth _more_."

Jack looks up at him, and Mark stands. He pulls Jack up and into a fierce hug, and Jack presses his face into his shoulder. He tries to keep himself from crying, because damn it, he's not going to do that anymore. So he trembles, just trembles in Mark's grip, and Mark lets him without saying a word. 

"I'm gonna..." Jack sighs, and Mark lets him wiggle out of his grasp. "I'm gonna...go tell him no. To either pick me now or give me up." 

"Sounds like a good idea," Mark puts an arm around him, leading him to the door. "Then maybe get some sleep? You look really tired." 

Jack lets out a strained laugh at that, because he really is. Tired. He sucks in a deep breath. "Thank you, Mark. For everything."

"Anytime," Mark assures him. "And Jack?" 

"Hm?"

"You don't have to be alone," he says quietly. "I'll be here." 

Jack's heart skips a beat. He blinks furiously to keep any tears from falling as he nods his head, whispering another _thank you_ under his breath.

–

He comes back into the apartment close to five in the morning. Felix immediately jumps off the couch from where he'd been sitting, obviously having not slept this whole time. They lock eyes and Jack's heart breaks in his chest. 

But he doesn't bleed. Or maybe he is, as he chokes out, "You need to pick. Right now."

Felix cocks his head to the side. Jack elaborates, "You can't...you can't just...have me when you want me, and then pick her when it's all said and done. You know I'm in love with you. And you either have to love me back or let me get over you. Every time you kiss me, or touch me, or just...do anything with me, it pulls me back and I--goddamn it, Felix, you have to pick her or me. Right now. This is how it has to be." 

His heart is hammering at a mile a minute. It's beating so fast that Jack wonders why it isn't popping out of his chest. The silence overwhelms him, and Jack can hear the faint ticking of the clock in the kitchen.

"Felix--"

"I know, Jack," Felix breathes, covering his face with his hands. "I know, I..."

Silence again. Then Felix looks up. Their eyes lock. Jack swallows. Felix sighs.

"I'm not in love with you, Jack," Felix licks his lips. "And I don't think I'm ever going to be."

It stings. It's probably one of the most painful things he's ever heard in his life. Jack bows his head and closes his eyes. What had he been expecting? Felix to choose him? Of course not. As if he would ever. Jack is nothing--nothing compared to Marzia, at least. 

"I'm sorry, Jack," Felix whimpers, his voice choked. "I thought I could. I thought I might be able to--"

"Save it, alright?" Jack cuts him off. "Just...save it. I'm gonna go to my room now. Don't bother me."

He walks towards his room, but stops short when Felix grabs him by the wrist. He doesn't turn around. "Felix--"

"Just," Felix mumbles. "Hear me out. Okay?" 

Jack grows quiet. Felix mumbles, "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry for every bit of hell I put you through these last two weeks. But I tried. I tried to love you. And I do--in some ways. You're my best friend, Jack. And I can't bear--I can't bear the thought of losing you." 

"I'm so stupid," Jack laughs, shaking his head. He still doesn't look at him. "I'm so fucking stupid. Are we--are we even friends? Or were you just fucking using me?"

The words drip from him like venom. Every bit of anger, every bit of self-loathing comes out full force in the sharpness of his words. He turns now, expecting an answer. 

Felix freezes, and Jack yanks out of his grip, clenching his fists. He's shaking--where is this anger coming from? "You said you knew. You said you knew I was in love with you. How long--huh? How fucking long have you known?" 

Silence. Jack nearly screams, "Tell me!" 

"For a while," Felix admits, drawing away, as if the fury in Jack's words have burned him. "But I thought that..."

"Thought what?" Jack hisses. "Thought that I wasn't anymore? Thought that it had gone away? Thought that I stopped loving you when you came over? Well, good news! I had been! Until you showed up again, and fucking coerced me into sleeping with you!" 

He needs to stop. He needs to stop now if he wants to save any part of his friendship. But he's just so mad. "You're so fuckng selfish, you know? You just come in here--acting all heartbroken and sad and you're tearing my life apart--we haven't even seen each other in over a year, up til now."

Jack can feel tears in his eyes. He tries to blink them away. "I was getting over you. I was starting to fucking move on, knowing that I was never gonna have you. I thought once I get over with you, being friends would be a whole lot easier. Do you know how much it hurt when we were sixteen and total idiots? How I could think about you for hours and hours and imagine what it would be like to be with you for the rest of my life? How you could've been so easily my entire world? Did you even think about that when you waltzed in here and destroyed my fucking walls of safety?"

Felix is so small, then, so small in the face of his words. He whispers, "I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?" Jack demands, but his fight is leaving him. He feels so heavy, yet so light. More than anything, he is tired. "That I was so in love? That I can see the stars in your eyes, even now? That I know that--that Marzia is a damn lucky woman, and I want to meet her, because I wanna see what kind of person it took for you to finally love someone so much?" 

He braces a hand against the wall, afraid that he will fall if he doesn't support himself. Jack uses his free hand to cover his eyes, breathing in and out slowly. "I hope you love her, truly. I hope she loves you. I hope you two work things out and become the best that you can be. I wish that happiness for you. 'Cause isn't that what you do when you love someone? You wish 'em all the best...?"

Jack sighs, leaning against the wall. Felix is so silent, scarcely breathing, as if fearful of another outburst. But Jack is just so tired. His energy is gone.

He says no more. Felix finally says, "I'm...I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry. I never meant--I never meant for any of this--I just--I'm so sorry." 

The Swede pulls Jack into a fierce hug, as if attempting to convey every ounce of sympathy he has. It radiates from him, and Jack is tempted to pull away, but Felix continues, "I know you won't forgive me. I don't expect you to. I wouldn't forgive me but I--I want to be your friend, Jack. I really do. I want to still be your best friend, if you'll let me. I meant it when I said I don't want to lose you." 

There's something about the sincerity in his voice that quiets the storm in Jack. He softens in his embrace, and slowly hugs back, letting out a low sigh. 

"We'll work it out," Jack mumbles. "It's just...gonna be a bit. I won't lie." 

"I'll leave tomorrow?" Felix suggests, no hint of malice or bitterness. Just a question.

Jack almost tells him not to worry about it, that he's fine to stay, but then he thinks better of it. "Yeah, maybe that's...that's good. Are you gonna be...?"

"I think Marzia and I have sorted ourselves out well enough for me to go back," Felix explains, finally relinquishing his hold on him. "I'll be gone by the time you wake up. I'll...call you? Sometime soon? We'll have lunch or something. And maybe we can...you know." 

Jack swallows hard. He nods. "Okay. Yeah. I...that sounds good. Take care, Fe. I wish you all the best. Really."

"I know you do," he replies. "You take care too, okay, Sean?" 

Jack sucks in a breath. The use of his real name speaks volumes to him. At this point, he doesn't trust himself to speak. He just nods, and without looking back he goes to his room, shutting the door. 

He shudders. He covers his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes his lips, and he crawls into bed, a single reassurance running itself over and over in his mind. 

Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow will be better than this.


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing about the days that follow are easy.

The apartment feels empty now without Felix around. In two weeks, he had gotten so used to his presence that it feels weird without him there. 

Jack really is a lonely bastard.

Felix does end up calling, sometime soon, as he'd said he would. It's an awkward, ten minute conversation about how things with Marzia are fine now, and that if Jack ever wanted to hang out, to just give him a call, and that Marzia would like to meet him sometime, if he still wants to. Jack promises he will and ends it, wondering if he ever really will. 

But it's not all bad. He's happy for Felix, and he really does want to meet his girlfriend. And now that he's trying to distract himself, him and Mark end up hanging out more.

He likes Mark. In some ways, Mark makes him feel safe, and he craves that, more than anything. He craves that sense of security. Mark doesn't seem to mind at all giving it to him. Whenever Jack shows up, invited or uninvited, he smiles just the same, so welcome and open and Jack could use more of Mark in his life. 

Eventually, there are some days that don't feel so bad, that he doesn't feel so lonely and that he can actually think about Felix for more than ten minutes without aching. More often than that, though, his painful memories seem to slowly be replaced with fond ones.

Fond ones of Mark. 

Days of _okay_ turn into weeks of _okay_ , and that in turn becomes days of _good_ , and then weeks of _good_ , until Jack feels like maybe he's finally putting himself back together, because he had sure as hell been broken before. The pain isn't gone by any means--but sometimes it dulls, just enough for him to think clearly. 

Jack meets Marzia about a month after the whole dilemma. They have lunch together, all three of them, Felix included, and she is as beautiful and as kind as Jack had ever hoped her to be. Felix is entirely too nervous during the entire thing but Jack can see her appeal, and something about the whole lunch just gives him a sense of closure. Like it's all over. Their puzzle is completed and he doesn't have a part in it. That hurts, of course. It hurts knowing that he's finally got no chance at all. 

But that gives him the freedom to create his own puzzle. 

Jack spends that very same night with Mark, watching an old movie on the couch, the drawl of the music swirling throughout the living room. It's a nice distraction, especially when Mark begins to hum along to the tune. It sends shimmers of happiness through him. 

Mark is too much--but in a really, really good way. 

Jack won't admit anything about him, not yet. It's a little too early still, but time will uncover it eventually. Jack knows that--but no words are really needed. He just doesn't pretend to hide a smile when their fingers touch, and eventually intertwine, remaining like that for the rest of the night. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark is smiling too. 

Whatever happens next, happens. Jack just wants to take the small comfort of their laced fingers, and the way that Mark shifts a little closer, their shoulders bumping.

Jack sighs. For once, tomorrow doesn't feel like something to dread. It feels like it's going to be pretty good.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, thank you. If you have any further comments or questions, hit me up at galaxyghosty.tumblr.com


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